


The Chosen One

by kenwaylights



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Gen, Nightmares, PTSD, Post-Canon, i cryyyyyy, post-ACIII, strong angst with a hopeful ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:24:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5070718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenwaylights/pseuds/kenwaylights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After everything he's gone through, you can't blame him for being plagued by regrets and what ifs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Chosen One

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song by A2/Mona Lisa Overdrive: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jl26fda_1PE

_I’ve been turning it all around… I’m sorry - oh, so sorry. Is this what I have become?_

 

Dawn broke and the sun’s warm rays washed the room with a brilliant orange colour. It had been a cold winter and the warmth, however little, was certainly refreshing, and even more beautiful. The remains of overnight frost became dew upon the grass every morning and one could hear the birds returning. The forest and the homestead were becoming lively again, slowly but surely.

Connor opened his eyes with a deep exhale and twisted his back slightly to stretch. He hadn’t been sleeping well the night before and had been awake for a good while now. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to silence his mind enough to let him sleep.

So, instead of continuing to try for the impossible, he got up and dressed. He figured he might as well take a walk to try and clear his head.

 _Damn these thoughts… These memories… These regrets…_ They all circled his head in one blurry hurricane, tormenting him to his wit’s end. The things he’d said and done, oh, how he couldn’t shake them and the feelings with which they came. Connor wished his mind would just be quiet.

Starting down the steps and walking up the half-elevated rock formation out front, he jumped onto the branch of a tree and began taking his walk that way. Nature had a soothing effect. He hoped it would help.

At times, Connor wondered what life would be like if he had never gone to Achilles for training. If he had never become an Assassin.

 _Very different_ was the answer to which he always arrived. Among many other possible scenarios.

He wondered how life would be in comparison if his mother had lived. He missed her. Kaniehtí:io’s necklace gathered no dust from all the times he picked it up and ran his fingers over the smooth beads. But Connor knew full well that he would not be the person he became if these things had never happened. He didn’t always appreciate that fact. Still, one cannot change the past, and one cannot bring back the dead.

If he could, he would bring back Ziio and Achilles. Then again, to raise the dead would be selfish of him.

Sometimes Connor would question what would be in his future. Would all his hard work and sacrifice be for naught in the end? He would never know. When he reached the inlet, Connor stood atop the cliff, staring out over the ocean.

What a colossal world was out there.

His gaze swept over the sparkling sunrise-tinted waters and cliffs to the _Aquila_ and all her crewmembers. It was a pleasant sight to see all his friends waking up and casually, even playfully in some cases, interacting with one another, happy with the lives they led. Connor turned back and travelled on foot this time.

He went around to greet the other residents of Davenport Homestead. All were just rising and seemed to be cheerful enough. They all warmly returned his greetings and exchanged small talk with him.

The children of the homestead rushed to him, tugging at his robes and all shouting at once.

 _So young… So naïve… So full of life_.

Connor appreciated that about children.

Making his way back to the manor, Connor stepped through the doorway feeling better than when he’d left. His life may not have been charmed, but he was proud of how far he’d come.

 

_And I’ll try to save the world, ‘cause in the end I know… I’m the chosen one._


End file.
